Wind stopped, incense bunt to dust,And flowers shed their petal over my desk,Day is getting dark; I am weary to do up my hair.All his things are still here, but he is gone,It feels like everything is stopped,Before my word comes out,My tears already streamed out.

I heard about the beautiful spring sceneAt the Couple Streams,I want to row my boat there to see if it’s true,But I am so afraid that my boat is too small,And she can’t carry too much sorrow.

Monday, September 21, 2009

This is not about healthcare,This is about money!That billion dollar industriesFighting to hold American money.

The problem is not that our momsWho are waiting for cancer treatment,Neither about our kids who’re dyingFrom Leukemia and other disease

This is about those senatorsWho desperately cry out “Nay!”To protect their contributorsAnd their richly donated fund!

This is not about saving life,This is about expense!That such budget system is controlledBy the big Corps and their barking dogs.

The stake is to double the incomeFrom their customers and Uncle SamSo this way they can insureAll their well-beings and their pockets

Breasts cancer, cut them off;Bone disease, walk it off;They insure their dogs are fully covered,The rest, sell your house or pray to God:)

Note:To avoid unnecessary complaints and opinions and threat email, I must state this poem is just personal opinion after one pack of beer. I try to avoid all political poems, or a poem that involved politics, but I cannot just watch the sick people are dying and professionals just watching and say sorry you are not covered for treatment, would they say that to their mom? Or kids? If they all got dying disease?... I guess this battle looks like how should a big chunk of money be spent, but I know one thing might take most people to decide if their family members get dying disease, they probably sell their house and jewelries to race against time to save their love ones, they probably wouldn’t do many weekly or monthly joint-meeting to discuss a better way (money-wise-plan) to save their ma or sweet baby or their one-to-be-with wife. I just want to jot down this first thought poem for those who are rushing to be cured or waiting to die, while a few who playing this like an usual game. Averagely 45000 American die of lack of healthcare each year, wow, those poor people who cannot make a living, and die not of disease, but lack of healthcare. Oh, they are the casualties of war, a business and political war.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who is the fairest in the world?
My soft cream skin white as snow
And dark long hair like ebony wood
The bodice laces of silk I fashioned
To tie you up and cut off your breath
The glistening comb I carved it to sell
To brush off your thoughts and all your hair
And the green apple, the work of my art
Holds a red cheek of sweetest death
Your glass coffin and seven candles illume
There your beauty sleeps and never resurrect
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Who is the greatest among all?

Note:
I wanted to write about pride and envy for sometime, and I feel that pride always goes with envy, usually shows on someone holds great talents like artists, writers, musicians… those very creative people. After some weeks of finding, I revisited the beloved story of Snow White that I read when I was a kid. And immediately the urges of being in the character of the envy Queen (Snow White’s step mother) came upon my mind. She must be an artist in business, or a poet or writer who wanted to outshine all others, or someone held great talents but was fatal with her pride and envy (she’s fashion designer, she made colorful silk bodice laces that can cut off your breath; she’s good sculptor, she made the glistening comb that with magic of death, and she’s bio-chemist that only the red skin part of her apple kills you, you think Jan Davidszoon painted the fruit that you want a bite, but the envy Queen produced real poison apples), so all her beauty and feature, and talents she worked to beat down her ‘competitors’, too sad, she never realized that for beauty there is no judging, there is no first nor second nor third, every artist is unique, every poet speaks distinctive voice, yet they all have their weakness and strength. Snow White was pure and naïve, she was tempted by the beautiful laces, the glistening comb, and the artful apple;( she couldn’t help it, for she was a pure lover of art) she died three times, yet revived. And I feel her character is more beautiful than her appearance, I guess that might be the original purpose of this story, what’s more beautiful than purity? Even her corpus does not rot but fresh, so her beauty remains, like she never dies…. There is also another metaphor for aesthetic view of inspiration for artists, the biological mother of Snow White who sits by her window and sews, her aesthetic inspiration is from outside her window, she is humble and always recognizes the beauty of her outside world (the snow, the blood, the ebony), so her wish and faith begets her fruit (Snow White); but the envy Queen (Snow White’s step mother) can only look into her mirror(self-adored but not-narcissism), she realizes her weakness, yet she cannot learn better, coz she can only get her inspiration from herself, the mirror. Two queens and Snow White are artists, three different views and attitudes toward beauty of art. I think every artist should see two persons in her mirror, Snow White and her step mom hauling and pulling each other’s hair and cat-scratch fighting against each other, sometime Snow White on top, often the envy Queen beats the crap out of Snow White:)
2016.09.16
Some new understanding about Snow White.
There are three aesthetic states one must go thru:
1) Staring at the mirror: Self-reflection of Narcissistic view or Self-loathing that draws envy.
National Pride, Race Pride, Culture and Ethnic Pride, or the opposite
2) Looking outside thru window: Seeing the wide world that improves aesthetic standard.
Observation and analysis, to imitate the good and eliminate flaws
3) Seeing the beauty thru each object: Snow White none judging, falls for something beautiful every time, even we readers see the dark magic in a beautiful disguise, the ribbon, the apple, the product of the witch... her naive attitude toward person and things is truly admirable for a artist and poet or anyone to learn see the goodness in everybody and everything.
People must go thru these 3 stage to be beautiful.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Choosing FruitBy Laijon Liu 20090902Fruit, all shapes and sizesRed, yellow and green…In every land and cornerThey grow to fill our spaceAnd we, human beingsLive upon this food sourceSo we plant them in our gardenAnd bargain for them in marketWhen I was a little kidMy mom taught me a skillThat every child must learnHow to pick a good fruitEach their kinds are differentAccording to their nutrientsAnd their skin and sizesDo tell their story and stateSo now I am an expertA specialist on choosing fruitI read their color, feel their bodySmell their scent to judge themAnd daily I go to the marketStand by the piled up tablesExamine each of themLike some sort of ritualThey should be naturalNo chemical or biocideThey must not be hardAnd should be fully grownBut sometime I do wonderIf we pick all the good onesThen where the rest should go?Those ones aren’t so perfectThose ones that ripe earlyThat we didn’t catch up to gatherAnd the ones were not readyBut we plucked them off anywayAnd poor ones never met good soilBeen sprayed every damn weekAnd not to mention the ones were takenTossed into our truck for a bumpy roadWhat would happen to them?Those should be nurtured by natureAnd each of them ought to be perfectBut tragically failed by our causeShould they just pile up on our stands?Laying miserably for a clearance price?And still be abandoned again and again?Then waiting their sad life to rot away?For all the years I picked the best onesTo follow this concept of livingBut recently I’ve just realizedThat we are all piled up on the stand!